The first shots went wide, and Jim watched them go hopping along the plain with much curiosity. Then came the vicious spurt of white smoke again, and the man and horse alongside him collapsed in a heap; the horse with a most dolorous groan, the man--Saxelby, a fine young fellow of his own troop--with a gasping cry, his leg shorn clean off at the knee. Jim's heart went right down into his stomach for a moment as the blood spirted over him, and he felt deadly sick. His first impulse was to jump down and help poor Saxelby, but he feared for himself if he did so--feared he would fall in a heap alongside him and perhaps not be able to get up, for he felt as weak as water. He clenched his teeth till they ached. He dropped his bridle hand on to his holster to keep it from shaking, and clasped his horse so tightly with his knees that he resented it and began to fret and curvet. Jim bent over and patted him on the neck, and two troopers got down and carried Saxelby away. The horse stopped jerking its legs and lay still, with its eyes wide and white, and its nostrils all bloody, and its teeth clenched and its lips drawn back in a horrid grin. The guns had found their range and were spitting venomously now. Half a dozen more of his men were down. He was quite sure he would be next. He thought in a whirl for a moment,--of Gracie; she would marry Jack, and all that matter would be smoothed out;--and of Mr. Eager, the dear fellow!--and his father, and he wished they had seen more of one another;--and Sir Denzil, he was not such a bad old chap after all. He thought they would be sorry for him. And Mme Beteta, he wondered---- Well, maybe he would know all about it in a minute or two. Then his heart rose suddenly right up into his head, and he was filled with a vast blazing anger at this being shot at with never a chance of a stroke in reply. If they would only let them go for those d----d Russians he would not feel so bad about it! But to be shot down like pheasants! It was not business! It was all d----d nonsense! He began to get very angry indeed. His quickened ear had caught the rattle of artillery coming up behind. But it had stopped. Why the deuce had it stopped? Why couldn't someone do something before they were all bowled over? Then at last there came a roar on their flank, and some of the newer horses kicked and danced, and Jim, staring hard at the Russians, saw a lane cleft through them where the shot had gone. He clenched his teeth now to keep in a wild hurrah. It was an odd feeling. He knew nothing about those fellows under the hill, but he hated them like sin and rejoiced in their destruction. He would have liked to slaughter every man of them with his own hand. If he had been able to get at them he would have hacked and slashed till there wasn't one left. No more balls came their way now. The guns turned on one another, and presently the Russians limbered up and retired--and it was over, and he was still alive. And then he was thankful.